


shot through the heart (and you're to blame)

by hawksonfire



Series: Clint Barton Bingo 2019 [15]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Boys Kissing, Bucky Barnes Bingo 2019, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Bingo 2019, Clint Barton Has PTSD, First Date, Fluff, M/M, Nervous Bucky Barnes, Nervous Clint Barton, Paintball, adorableness, nervous boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:49:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawksonfire/pseuds/hawksonfire
Summary: Bucky and Clint go on a paintball date. There ends up not being much paintball.





	shot through the heart (and you're to blame)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bucky Barnes Bingo Square U1 - paintball.  
> Also written for Clint Barton Bingo Square N5 - First Date.
> 
> i think i combine these two bingo's far too often. (is there such a thing as too often?)

**Clint**

Clint has had guns pointed at him. He has had knives held to his throat, the people he loves most in this world have been threatened, kidnapped and even killed. He is a world-renowned ex-assassin, one of the top agents at SHIELD, and a motherfucking Avenger.

So why is he so goddamn nervous for his date? “I should cancel,” he says suddenly.

“No, you shouldn’t,” Tasha says from the couch. She’s sitting cross-legged, trying to balance a knife on her finger. “Bah,” she tosses the knife away, the corner of her mouth curling up. “Poor quality.”

“But I’m gonna mess this up, Tash, I know it! No way I can go on a date with _the_ Bucky Barnes, my literal gay awakening, and not mess it up.” He runs a hand through his hair, tugging harshly. The dull ache that forms doesn’t help him take his mind off of his impending disaster date.

“I have it on good authority that James is just as nervous as you,” Tasha says, and wait - what? 

“He is?”

She nods. “Steve tells me he spent four hours yesterday picking what to wear.”

“Should I have spent more time on my clothes?” Clint says, looking down at his outfit. He _thought_ he looked pretty good when he put them on a few minutes ago, but now he isn’t so sure. The dark blue jeans sit snugly on his hips, accentuating his ass (and it’s a nice ass), and his purple t-shirt is _just this side_ of too tight, showing off his biceps. 

He knows he looks good - he’s just not sure he looks good _enough_. “You look fine,” Natasha says, rolling her eyes.

“Are you sure? Because I can go change!” Clint pulls at his hair again. “I don’t even know why I’m so nervous, Tash. It’s not like we haven’t been building up to this for a while.” He walks over to the couch and slumps down in front of her, his back pressed against the couch just below her legs.

“You’re nervous because now there is potential for rejection. When you were just fuck-and-cuddle buddies, there were no feelings involved - well, no feelings you would admit to, anyway.” She gently removes his hand from his hair and runs her fingers through it instead, soothing the ache and fixing his hair as well. “Now, you have both realized that you like each other. There is the possibility that James could see you as you truly are, and you’re worried he won’t like what he sees.”

“Well, I was more worried that he’d kick my ass in paintball,” Clint jokes. Natasha pulls on his hair, bending his head backward until he’s looking her in the eye. “Ouch, okay! Okay, yes, fine, I’m worried he won’t like me. _God,_ what am I, a teenager?”

“Only emotionally,” Natasha says, smiling down at him. The light above the door flashes. “Now, go get your man.” She releases his hair and nudges him towards the door with her foot.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Clint grumbles, shuffling over to the door. He runs a hand through his hair again, probably ruining all of Tasha’s hard work and pulls open the door. “Hey, Buck - woah.”

Bucky stands in front of him, holding a single daisy in his left hand. “Hi Clint,” he says softly, shifting on his feet. He’s wearing black skinny jeans and a dark blue Henley, which really brings out his eyes - makes them all the more piercing. The Henley emphasizes his biceps, which Clint would very much like to bite at, and wraps around a waist that Clint is having R-rated thoughts about. 

“Hi Bucky,” Clint breathes, drinking him in. “I said that already.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, “That’s okay. You ready to go?”

“Yeah, yep, let's go,” Clint babbles, and he’s already wincing internally at how dumb he must sound. He steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind him, and abruptly finds himself chest to chest with Bucky. “Uh,” he says, slightly amused. 

“Sorry,” Bucky flushes adorably and steps aside, letting Clint move past him and falling into step beside him. They’re silent all the way down to the lobby and outside the Tower, and then Bucky says, “This is weird, right?”

“Oh, thank god,” Clint says, relieved, “I’m so glad I wasn’t the only one thinking so. Not that it’s your fault or anything, I just - yeah. It’s weird.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Bucky says, and his pinky finger bumps against Clint’s. Clint would be prepared to brush it off as an accident, but then Bucky does it again and this time, his finger lingers. Clint sucks in a breath and grabs Bucky’s hand, tangling their fingers together.

“This okay?” He checks, and Bucky nods, the tips of his ears pink.

“Very.” Bucky gives his hand a little squeeze and Clint relaxes, swinging their hands idly. 

“So,” Clint starts. 

“So,” Bucky says. 

“How ya been?”

Bucky snorts. “Spent four hours on my outfit this morning, so that should tell you something.”

“Well, they were worth it,” Clint says, and he winks. Bucky blushes. “I was nearly pulling my hair out before Tasha talked me down, so... Y’know. Same boat.”

“God, we’re both disasters,” Bucky sighs, shaking his head.

“We could be disasters together?” Clint offers, grinning. 

“Not the worst plan,” Bucky says softly. They grin at each other.

“Hey, we’re here!” They walk into the building and sign up for the next round. Without talking to each other, they just sign up for one round. Now that they’ve gotten past the initial awkwardness, Clint finds himself falling into their old pattern - being desperately, hopelessly attracted to Bucky and he _needs_ to do something about it. So, one round. And then hopefully back to the Tower for some naked times. With Bucky, preferably. “What are your feelings about putting out on the first date?” Clint mutters into Bucky’s ear while they’re having the rules and instructions explained to them. 

“We should be paying attention,” Bucky says, failing to hide his grin. “But I’m all for it.”

Bucky’s right - they should be paying attention. Considering that neither of them has ever played paintball before. “You two!” A deep voice says, startling them both. The instructor looks down at them. “Blondie, you’re on A-team. Broody Pants, you’re on B-team.”

“But -”

“Let’s get moving!” The instructor claps his hands and they break apart, hands lingering on each other until they’re too far apart. 

“Aw, paintball,” Clint says mournfully as he puts on his gear. A-team gears up and plans their plan, but Clint is too busy watching Bucky look down at the paintball gun with a look of disgust on his face. He’s probably used to better guns. 

So is Clint, come to think of it. The buzzer rings and A-team is off, scattering into the fog-filled maze. Their laughter and whoops fade as they get further into the maze but Clint just wanders, holding his gun loosely. He figures he’ll just find a high perch and snipe the other team until they win, but he really doesn’t want to shoot Bucky. 

Suddenly, he’s pulled into a tight corner, gun pressed against his body and back against the wall. He recognizes Bucky’s grip on his wrist and relaxes. “Don’t do that, you asshole!” He says, shoving at Bucky’s chest ineffectually.

“How else would I have been able to do this?” Bucky breathes, before leaning in and pressing his lips to Clint’s. Clint takes approximately point three seconds to retaliate, kissing back and crowding Bucky against the other side of their little nook. Bucky huffs in surprise at the sudden movement.

Clint’s hand finds it’s way into Bucky’s hair, curling a thumb around his ear. He tugs gently and Bucky sighs into his mouth. He returns the favour by moving his mouth to Clint’s neck and sucking a bruise into the delicate skin over Clint’s jugular vein.

“We should get back to the game,” Clint says breathlessly, but he doesn’t remove his hand from Bucky’s hair. 

“Probably,” Bucky agrees, but he doesn’t move away from Clint’s neck. They both freeze as someone comes racing by their little hiding spot, but they pass by without noticing the compromising position Bucky and Clint find themselves in. “We’re a little exposed like this,” Bucky murmurs against Clint’s collarbone, “Someone could see what we’re doing.”

The thought of someone seeing the two of them wrapped up in each other sends a bolt of pure _want_ directly to Clint’s groin, and his hips twitch as he stifles a groan. “Don’t just _say_ shit like that, Buck,” He gasps.

“Why not?” Bucky counters, pressing a little closer. “We’ve been dancing around this whatever it is between us for months now, Clint. I know what makes you tick.”

“Boyfriends,” Clint says, most of his blood rushing towards his dick.

Bucky is silent for a minute, and then, “Excuse me?”

“The ‘whatever-it-is’ between us,” Clint says, letting Bucky move back a step, “I’d like to call it boyfriends. Call _us_ boyfriends.”

Bucky opens his mouth, then closes it. He looks thoughtful. “What would be different?”

Clint shrugs. “On my end? I wouldn’t mind being able to kiss you in front of Steve. Wake up next to you in the mornings.” His face is burning, and he can barely make out Bucky’s face in the shitty lighting - but part of Clint knows that’s why he’s able to say all of this. “I’m all the way in on this thing, Bucky. Was kinda hopin’ you were too.”

“I -” Bucky cuts himself off. He bites at his bottom lip and Clint pulls it away from his teeth, letting his thumb soothe the sting. He waits patiently for Bucky to gather his thoughts. “I snore,” Bucky says, which is - well, unexpected, to say the least.

“I know,” Clint says, because he does. They’ve slept next to each other before.

“I steal the covers,” Bucky says, eyes trained on Clint’s face.

Clint furrows his eyebrows. “I know that too,” he says, confusion rising.

“Some days you won’t be able to touch me,” Bucky says, quieter this time, like he’s ashamed.

“That’s okay,” Clint shrugs, “Some days you won’t be able to touch me either.” Bucky blinks at him. Clint scoffs. “What, Buck, you think you’re the only fucked up one? Newsflash, I’ve got trauma and PTSD out the fucking wazoo, pal - you ain’t special.” He reconsiders his words. “Well, you’re special to me. But not because of your issues.”

“You’re wonderful,” Bucky breathes.

Clint shakes his head. “Far from, pal. I do what I can, though.” Bucky leans in and kisses him, firmly stopping any more words from escaping. By the time he pulls away, they’re both panting and flushed, and Clint is going to need a minute to adjust himself before they leave this little hole in the wall. 

“Boyfriends,” Bucky says thoughtfully, “I think I could get used to that.”

Clint grins. “Yeah?”

Bucky nods, gently rubbing a thumb over Clint’s cheekbone. “Yeah.” 

“ONE MINUTE WARNING!” The instructor’s voice blares over the PA system, making both of them jump violently. 

“How many you think are left?” Clint asks, adjusting his gun.

“Duno,” Bucky says, smirking. “Wanna find out?”

“Dream Team, right here!” Clint crows, grinning wildly. 

“Let’s go get ‘em, boyfriend,” Bucky says, bowing at Clint and gesturing towards the maze.

“Sure thing, boyfriend,” Clint grins. He pulls Bucky in for one last kiss, and then the two of them race out into the maze, ready to start their hunt. 

(They manage to get everyone else on both of their teams out before the time runs out, and just before the final buzzer goes off, Clint shoots Bucky in the chest, laughing while he does it. “That’s gonna cost you, sweetheart,” Bucky growls. 

Clint grins. “I’m happy to pay the price, whatever it is.”

It ends up being kisses. Lots of them. All over Bucky’s body. And like he said, Clint was happy to pay the price.)

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on the [tweets](https://twitter.com/candycanedarcy)
> 
> follow me on the [tumbles](https://candycanedarcy.tumblr.com/)


End file.
